The old cathedral groaned under the weight of time and weather, its stained-glass windows long shattered, its pews broken and worn. Rain hammered the roof like a war drum. The world outside was soaked in the electric buzz of stormlight, and inside the hollow cathedral, silence rested—uneasy and brief.
Riven sat with his back against the altar, staring at the flickering fire Lucy had sparked in the corner with scavenged wood. The air was damp, thick with the scent of old stone and mold. But for the first time in weeks, it felt like they could breathe. It had been three months since they escaped Death Protocol HQ. Three months of running. Of hiding. Of bleeding in shadows.
"They'll find us eventually," Lucy said, pulling her jacket tighter.
Riven didn't answer at first. His mind was replaying the moment he'd seen his sister alive again—weaponized. Dead, but walking. Broken, but powerful.
"Let them come," he said finally, his voice like gravel. "I'm tired of running."
The moment the words left his mouth, a mechanical whine split through the silence.
Drones.
Then came the footsteps—dozens.
Lucy was up instantly, eyes flashing. Riven's hand lit with red code.
They were surrounded.
Four Executioners dropped through the broken glass dome above. Their black armor shimmered with reactive light, system codes pulsing in red across their arms. On the ground, thirty soldiers in Death Protocol gear surrounded the church, their rifles raised, tactical lights slicing through the dark.
"No more hiding," one of the Executioners called. "Cigar wants you alive, but he didn't say how intact."
Riven stood slowly, his eyes glowing with static fire. The Execution Code on his hand buzzed.
"Lucy," he muttered.
"Already moving."
They struck first.
Lucy launched forward like a shadow broken loose. Her Binary Blade ignited mid-air, slicing clean through the first soldier's rifle and shoulder in one breath. She twisted mid-spin, avoiding a hail of bullets and landing behind the next with a brutal knee to his spine.
Riven Flash-stepped—one second grounded, the next he was behind two soldiers, his palm slamming into one's chest.
[EXECUTION: RED JUDGEMENT.]
The man turned to digital dust, screaming as the code unraveled him pixel by pixel. The second soldier hesitated—and lost his head to Lucy's blade.
Gunfire erupted, flashing like lightning in the stained glass remains. The Executioners fast as lightning. One aimed a Code Lance at Riven, launching a glowing spear of binary energy. Riven dodged barely, the shockwave shattering a nearby wall.
Another Executioner dropped in front of Lucy, blades drawn.
"You're fast," he said, smirking. "Let's see how fast you bleed."
Their duel was a blur—code on code, blade on blade. Lucy's movements were fluid, almost dance-like. But the Executioner fought with savage rhythm, each strike designed to break her guard. She blocked, parried, ducked—until a reverse elbow caught her in the ribs and sent her flying through a pew.
Riven called his clone.
A second version of him shimmered into being, crackling with red code. The clone rushed the left flank, striking a rogue Executioner and dragging him into a corner before activating Red Judgement.
But the real Riven was struggling. For every two he brought down, three more came. A soldier landed a shot on his leg—he grunted, spun, and erased the attacker with a flash of code.
"Lucy!"
She was surrounded—three soldiers closing in, her blade flickering from overuse. Blood trickled down her forehead.
Before Riven could reach her.
BOOM.
The wall on the east side exploded inward. Smoke and concrete dust flooded the cathedral.
Three figures walked through the haze, their systems lit with crimson and violet. They didn't wear Death Protocol armor. And they didn't speak.
The first one moved like a phantom his Execution Code shaped like twin pistols of pure light. He fired once. Twice. Two soldiers dropped instantly.
The second was a brute, seven feet tall, a hammer made of digitized mass swinging from his shoulder. He smashed down on an Executioner, cracking armor and skull in one hit.
The third didn't even attack. He raised his hand—and half the lights in the church shattered. Code static rippled across the floor. Riven felt his system twitch.
"EMP Disruptor," he muttered. "They're rogue."
Lucy stood, breathing heavy. "Are they with us?"
The first one nodded once.
The tide turned.
Riven teleported behind another Executioner and used Red Judgement at point blank. Lucy, renewed with cover, charged into the heart of the crossfire, her blade a blur of arcs and slashes.
The brute lifted an entire bench and flung it like a missile, crushing three soldiers against the far wall.
But the Executioners weren't done.
One activated a Flame. His body ignited in binary fire. He surged toward Riven.
"Too slow," Riven whispered.
FLASH.
He vanished—and reappeared above, striking downward with both palms.
[DOUBLE EXECUTION.]
The enemy turned to ash mid-scream.
The three rogue Executioners regrouped around Riven and Lucy.
"We've got ten seconds before reinforcements drop," the phantom-gunslinger said.
"Exit's through the east sewer," said the brute.
"Go," Riven growled. "We move together."
They ran—bullets chasing their shadows. Riven left a final clone behind, its hand glowing.
"Execute," he whispered.
The cathedral behind them erupted as the clone detonated the system overload. Fire and code consumed the entire squad still standing.
The sewers were dark. Wet. But quiet.
They kept running.
Finally, when the echoes of battle faded and only their footsteps remained, Lucy leaned against the wall, panting.
"You okay?" Riven asked.
She nodded. "Yeah. You?"
He looked back. "We're alive. That's enough."
The three strangers stood in silence.
"Names," Riven said.
The leader nodded. "You'll get them. When we're safe."
Rain fell through a grate above them. The city screamed on. But in the dark—shadows were gathering.
And for the first time in weeks, Riven didn't feel alone.